


On love

by Zargontari



Series: TF2 Drabbles and Writings [3]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Angst, Hopeful Ending, I love heavy and medic please don't come at me, M/M, Obsession, One-Sided Attraction, it's a shipping fic, medic seriously needs to get a life already and stop trying to take everyone else's, oh no I'm projecting on medic again, possible ooc, requests are open
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27027871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zargontari/pseuds/Zargontari
Summary: Medic thinks about his love for Heavy, and why he can never reveal it to him.
Relationships: Heavy/Medic (Team Fortress 2), one sided relationship - Relationship
Series: TF2 Drabbles and Writings [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965316
Comments: 3
Kudos: 48





	On love

I love you.

I have loved you for a long time, I think. I have loved you for even longer than I have known about it. 

Of course, I have never been the most reliable narrator. I see in the greys of your black and white, in the golds of your reds and browns. Good and bad have little meaning to me, even as you explain in a tongue you still are learning how important it is to be good to those close to you. In the puddles of blood you leave behind in your wrath, I find love. 

Now, I know you do not love me the same; for how could you? I am aware of my own setbacks, and I am not blind to my faults of which there are many. Men who play god are rarely sought after despite how successfully they may play. I turned us into beings that can be invulnerable, and they shy away from my touch because they only remember the hurt.

But you do not, do you? You welcome my presence, even going so far as to seek me out in your own free time. How crazy must you be, to willingly seek out the attention of a madman? I must admit, I do not understand you as well I want to. You baffle me as much as you mold perfectly with me; our hearts as one even if our bodies are not even close.

You are beautiful, did you know that? On the battlefield, you are a beast and something to behold. There is almost nothing that withstands you, and what does is terrified of the raw power that you have shown it. Following a step behind you is similar to the feeling of following a god, as you glow from my light and their blood. You have ruined me for beauty, my friend.

Even past this, you must be intelligent on top of it. You just had to be one of the smartest men I have ever met, didn't you? I think the universe is simply trying to spite me at this point, to dangle something so tantalizing in front of me only to deny me it when you tell me that I am a brother to you.

To tell you that I love you would be a sort of betrayal, probably. It would force you to see everything that we have done in a new light, and you would be wondering how much of my behavior was a manipulation to try and convince you to love me in the same way as I have loved you. But by god, do I want to tell you. I want to grab your hands in my own and feel myself dwarfed, then tell you everything that I have hidden in my heart for so long. 

I want to show you all of myself as you have shown me you, bare with no room to hide anything. You are such an honest person, and so open. For once, I want to give you the same that you have given me for so long. If I showed you the most depraved parts of me, the ones that want you with everything that I am; would you shove me away? Would you fear me, as the others do? Or would you look at me in the same way? Say that you have been waiting for me to say it, have been hoping that I would-

No. I know that you would not. I have come so close over and over again, have almost whispered my obsessions, but every time you give me that look, your face creasing in confusion, I stop and laugh it off. You are too pure for what I am.

I am nothing more than an ugly quilt. A quickly cobbled together patchwork of scars stitched with the thinnest threads. Even the slightest pressure undoes me. If you were to deny me, I would break along every fault line and there would not be enough of me left to pierce into a whole again.

Do you know what it is to be broken, my liebling? I hope that you don't. I hope that this doesn't plague you at night; that the corners of your mind are not filled with monsters that threaten to crawl out of the darkness and eat you. These monsters slip through the cracks and make them wider every time you say you love me. It hurts when you do that. Sometimes, late at night, I wonder if you know what you are doing to me.

I get angry with you, and I wish that I would not, but I cannot help it. I love you so dearly that it is a physical hurt everywhere in my soul, but when you yell to the world that you love me, you don't mean it as I do and you never will. You help me when I am wounded, as I do you, but have you never realized how deep that goes? 

You don't remember your surgery, but I do. I remember holding your beating heart in my hands, and thinking 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦. Your body was perfect, and you laughed with me where the others had screamed. I think it was then that I started to love you. That is an awfully long time to love someone without that feeling dimming.

And try as I might, I cannot kill it. Respawn doesn't affect it, screaming at you only does nothing but hurt - because you don't even care, you have the audacity to ask if I am okay?! You should be angry with me! Please, anything is better than this ache - and even trying to train myself out of it did nothing. As it is, I will have to live with it as I have for years already.

I will continue to love you, I think. I will follow your steps and place my feet in your bloody footprints.

And for a moment, I will let myself dream of holding you. But only for a moment.


End file.
